


Goodbye, Love

by Wulver



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Arguing, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, slight change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 06:52:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13607919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wulver/pseuds/Wulver
Summary: Basically Roger and Mark's arguement, but slightly different.





	Goodbye, Love

  "I hear, there are great restarurants out West."  Mark starts, fidgeting with gall amonst his fingers. "That's where you're heading after all." 

  Mark smiled nervously. Watching Roger closely as he rummaged through his drawers and hasilty packed whatever he grabbed. He looked up at Mark maybe once, but his eyes were so devastated. Mark felt his pain and could only look out the window away from his gaze. Which earned him a breathy, pained laugh.

  "Some of the best," Roger murmured finally. "how could she? With him? What a joke."

  There was a small aching feeling that swelled in Mark's heart at the sound of Roger's betrayal. It was always about her these days. Sure, Mark's glad she got Roger out of the house after all these months, but at what cost? More baggage, more pain for Roger? Anything Mark ever did was for Roger, even if that meant putting his life on hold. And yet, Roger is leaving because of  _her_. Nothing he ever did was enough for Roger, and that hurt him more then anything. But still after all this, he's still going to try and beg Roger to stay because of her. If Roger's going to be happy, then so will Mark.

  "I mean, how could  _you_ leave her" He accused quietly. "You just don't know. Anything."

  "How could we lose Angel?" Roger continued, ignoring Mark. He sounded so defeated. 

  "Maybe you'll see why," Mark began. Roger finally looked at him, he had his full attention. He felt nervous once again, almost losing his voice. "When you stop escaping your pain. At least now if you try," Mark pleaded, reaching for Roger's sleeve "Angel's death won't be in vain!"

  Roger jerked away from Mark's hand, looking at him like he was a madman. His piercing green eyes filling with animosity.

  "His death is in vain!" He roared, brining his hands above his head.

  "Are you insane?" Mark demanded in disbelief. "How dare you!"

  How could  _he_  say something so ignorant? How could Roger ever say something like that? Even if he is hurting Mark never felt so much resentment for him until just now. Roger watched him with a inscrutable look on his face.

  "Are you saying I'm wrong?" Roger challenged, like he was reading Mark's mind.

  "There's so much to care about! There's me," Mark stopped short for a second. It's like he enjoys dragging himself through the mud, and beating the dead horse. "and Mimi. Don't forget about her."

  "Mimi's got her baggage to deal with." Roger returned sullenly, looking down.

  The packing ceases for a moment, as Roger stares down at his hands. He didn't bother mentioning Mark. Mark watched him sadly, he wanted so bad to reach out and hold Roger. But his previous effort was no use, so he was not going to try that again.

  "So do you." Mark countered softly, taking a step forward to get closer to him, his hands tugging at his scarf now.

  Roger looked lost for a second. His eyes darted back and forth along the room, like he was thinking. Maybe he was thinking of not actually leaving Mark all alone in this lonely loft. Maybe Mark finally won an arguement between the two of them. But before Mark knew what was happening, Roger got up and stepped into his personal space, looking him square in the eyes. Not only did Roger have the height advantange, but the whole 'bad boy' front taught him to be soild over the years. He knew how to intimidate people, especially Mark. Mark tried taking a step backwards but only to end up against the wall. There was no escaping now.

  "And who are you to tell me what I know? What to do?" Roger's eyes narrowed with disgust, it made Mark rigid with anxiety. Because after all they had been through Mark is still nothing to Roger.

  "A friend." He stated as calm as possible, wishing 'a friend' meant something more. 

  "But who Mark, who are you?" Roger got closer to his face, tilting his head. He was smiling, but in a happy manner.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Really?" He asked in fake amazement, turning his head away. Then he mocks pointing his finger at Mark's chest. ""Mark has got his work", they say. "Mark lives for his work and Mark's in love with his work." But you know what? Mark hides in his work."

  Roger almost looked more upset with the words he just spoke than angered. Biting the inside of his cheek, Roger turned away to continue his abandoned suitcase. Mark blinks back the tears that are threatening to unleash at any given moment. He doesn't move from the wall, like he is glued to it. His emotions were not going to ruin him now. 

  "From what?" Mark's voice cracked as he spoke.

  "From facing your faliure." Roger starts angrily, stopping midway. "Facing your loneliness... Facing the fact you live a lie."

  "No I don't-"

  "Yes! Yes you live a lie, I'll tell you why. Because you're always preaching not to be numb when that's how you thrive." Roger faces Mark fully once again, close to tears. He doesn't look proud of his words, but you can tells he's been wanting to say them for a long time. "You're alway pretending to observe and create. When in reality you detach from feeling alive."

  "Perhaps," Mark gulps, feeling the pressure of Roger's words. He hated this, thinking this, saying this. Albeit the truth, it doesn't hurt any less. It's like Roger wants to make Mark suffer, which is probably the case. "it's becasue I'm the one of us to survive."

  Deep down Roger knew what Mark was saying was a pretty vaild arguement. And the pain that showed as clear as day in Mark's eyes proved he didn't want to say it, as much as Roger didn't want to hear. But he was to agitated, and hurt to care much about how Mark felt or was feeling. No matter how much Roger tried, Mark's work would always be the on thing that kept him away from feeling life to it's fullest. That was the one thing Mark could use as an excuse and nobody would ever question. But Roger always knew what went on with Mark, so he knew what really happened behind the lens of the old film camera. But at this point he was to lost in his own thought.

  "You poor baby." He spat.

  "I- Mimi still loves you. Are you really that jealous." Mark tries. "Or afriad of the weak?"

  Mark breathed in deep. He almost slipped up. Good thing Roger is in to much of a whirl wind to notice. One of the only good things about this whole situation.

  "Mimi did look pale."

  Roger looked up at Mark. He was looking a little pale too. Roger hopped he wasn't gonna get sick while he was gone. Mark wasn't one to take care of himself, and Roger knew he wasnt going to start now. Roger sighed, what is he doing?

  "She's gotten thin, and she's running out of time. And you're running out the door. What is your problem, man?"

  "Not now, no more. Oh no, I've gotta go." Roger rushed, throwing in a few extra items before slaming the drawers shut. He pushed roughly past Mark, knocking him back a few steps. He was always a scrawny push over.

  "Hey, for someone who's always been let down... Who's heading out of town?" Mark rushed. Helplessly grabbing Roger's sleeve, like a little kid who's mother is leaving them at school.

  "And for someone who longs for a community of his own... Look who's with his camera, all alone?" Roger sighed, stopping in front of the heavy metal door, harshly yanking out of Mark's weak grasp.

  He looked over his shouder one last time. Mark stood alone in the huge loft that it made him look even smaller and more thin, the windows behide him creating a sheet of moonlight over him which highlighted his features. Mark looking more pale in the moolght. His hands were preoccupied with pulling at his scarf, and his blue eyes looked so ready the cry the ocean of tears until they lost their pretty blue color. Roger has never seen Mark look so pathetic, yet beautiful at the same. It made his stomach churn with regret.

  "I'll call. I hate the fall." And walked out without another glance, because if he looked back at him he knew he wasn't gonna be able to leave.

  But in the end he never called.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welp I hope you enjoyed this mess.


End file.
